James never sipped on a potion. He didn't carefully taste it to see if he could feel some of its effects, or see if something was amiss. He downed the thing, because, honestly, if he started thinking more about it, touching it would become far more difficult. He didn't exactly want to think about the risks. However, he was an excellent alchemist, and this potion, like most others, was perfect. Even so, he felt strength running through his body, but his mind was not any clearer than it had been a little while ago.
Too bad it wasn't the "clear my mind" ingredients that got smashed towards the wall.
Not that those existed, James didn't really know how to make a potion like that but still. It wasn't until the wizard did something, muttering prayers, that James' head cleared up. And fuck if he got a shock when it did, getting startled by the fucking stone statue in the middle of the room, fighting the others.
"Oh damn. Fuck!" He felt a jolt run through his body as he realised that he hadn't just been sleepy. "What the bloody hell happened?!" he asked himself, rubbing his temple. It still hurt, but whatever anger he'd held towards the Goliath had been replaced by the feeling of both being a complete moron and the strength still running through his body. "Right, didn't show it respect, right?" He bit his lip. That wasn't his fault, he didn't know how to show respect.
Well, what now?
Clearly, you couldn't just hit a statue anywhere. It probably didn't care if he somehow got the head off or something either, would just keep on moving. And, he wouldn't admit it, but he owed the others the help, most of all the goddamn Goliath, which had either taken the chance to hit him for its own satisfactions, or... it had saved his life.
That's a predicament to be sure. I might owe him an apology. Ugh, what a drag.
James had his pride, though, he wasn't going to just apologise out of nowhere. Besides, whether it was the potion or the headache, he still was pretty pissed at being thrown towards the wall.
So, if the Goliath saved me... the statue. The fucking "Hey please show respect because I'm such a bloody important" statue.
He readied his daggers and ran ahead, hitting not at its neck or back, but attempting to run the blades into the arm wielding the weapon, hoping to break it off by jamming it into the weakest point of the arm. It did, however, require him to run in front of him, taking a bit of refuge underneath those very arms, hoping he'd be quick enough to dodge if it ever brought its weapon down.
Too bad it wasn't the "clear my mind" ingredients that got smashed towards the wall.
Not that those existed, James didn't really know how to make a potion like that but still. It wasn't until the wizard did something, muttering prayers, that James' head cleared up. And fuck if he got a shock when it did, getting startled by the fucking stone statue in the middle of the room, fighting the others.
"Oh damn. Fuck!" He felt a jolt run through his body as he realised that he hadn't just been sleepy. "What the bloody hell happened?!" he asked himself, rubbing his temple. It still hurt, but whatever anger he'd held towards the Goliath had been replaced by the feeling of both being a complete moron and the strength still running through his body. "Right, didn't show it respect, right?" He bit his lip. That wasn't his fault, he didn't know how to show respect.
Well, what now?
Clearly, you couldn't just hit a statue anywhere. It probably didn't care if he somehow got the head off or something either, would just keep on moving. And, he wouldn't admit it, but he owed the others the help, most of all the goddamn Goliath, which had either taken the chance to hit him for its own satisfactions, or... it had saved his life.
That's a predicament to be sure. I might owe him an apology. Ugh, what a drag.
James had his pride, though, he wasn't going to just apologise out of nowhere. Besides, whether it was the potion or the headache, he still was pretty pissed at being thrown towards the wall.
So, if the Goliath saved me... the statue. The fucking "Hey please show respect because I'm such a bloody important" statue.
He readied his daggers and ran ahead, hitting not at its neck or back, but attempting to run the blades into the arm wielding the weapon, hoping to break it off by jamming it into the weakest point of the arm. It did, however, require him to run in front of him, taking a bit of refuge underneath those very arms, hoping he'd be quick enough to dodge if it ever brought its weapon down.